


A Series of Firsts

by danceswithhamsters01



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 23:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17253200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Taken from a prompt challenge in discord.Love Interest Challenge: Three Prompts For The Love Interest- It encompasses anyone Love Interest in the game, canon or not canon. In this instance, for today, write the responses to these prompts from the LI's POV...Prompt 1: A Collection of Firsts: The First Meeting, First Smile/Frown, First Kiss, First Fight, First Time (can do aftermath if you want), etc, etc. Make it all about the first time for anything.





	A Series of Firsts

Pairing: Zevran Arainai & Sevarra Amell

 

(First meeting)

The eyes had drawn him in first. For a moment, he forgot about how fiendishly effective the rope around his wrists was tied, no matter how he moved his rather nimble hands, it refused to give even the smallest bit of slack. Brand new silver coins, if he had to name the color. Old wives’ tales said men and women with gold or silver eyes were witches. Usually, those stories were nothing but myths made to scare idiots. But once in a rare while, the tales were true. Such was the case with his captor.

 

Oddly enough, the silver-eyed witch quite readily heard him out when he made his offer: Let him live and he would serve her. A tiny lop-sided smile was on her lips, she probably didn’t even know it was there when she offered her hand to help him stand after cutting the rope. This was a very strange mage, but then again, he hadn’t interacted with Grey Wardens before right then. Perhaps this was merely a Tuesday for her?

 

–

 

(First frown)

She had been extremely quiet after they left what remained of the Circle. After the issue with Connor had been resolved, with both mother and son being spared, she’d become particularly withdrawn, often vanishing for hours at a time once their troop stopped for the night and made camp. Unlike the others, he’d heard the entire exchange she’d had with the blood mage Jowan. He’d hidden in a corner and eavesdropped. Spying on her had not been Zevran’s intention, but he’d mistaken her for an intruder and had followed discreetly behind to see what was going on.

 

She’d called the man “brother,” had begged him to come with her. She cried, she cajoled, she did everything short of threatening him. The assassin had seen her kill without blinking an eye back in the Circle, so her reluctance to make threats confounded the elf. In the end, “Jowan” would not be swayed. Rather than let him face the noose, she unlocked his cell, gave him a pack of supplies and made him flee for his life. She breathed not a word about it to anyone.

 

When she would return to camp from her nocturnal wanderings, he could see the faint frown on her lips during the few moments before she ducked soundlessly into her tent. When it was dark, she didn’t hide her emotions as well, she didn’t wear her mask. Thanks to his superior night sight, he saw the frowns. The Warden mage was like Jowan, he thought, soft in all the wrong places. It would be the end of her.

 

–

 

(First kiss)

It had been unexpected, but not unwelcome. A quick press of lips against his own, soft and sweet. A shyly given word of thanks accompanied by burning cheeks. While the game of quickly averting eyes when one caught the other looking had been amusing for a while, it had also fueled frustration. A release was increasingly desired, no, needed, lest one of them go mad. At this point, there was no telling who would go mad first.

 

“Perhaps a more proper ‘thank you’ should be given,” he smirked, cupping her chin. It wasn’t every day that one rescued another from almost certain death at the claws of werewolves, after all. She still smelled heavily of elfroot and embrium. Bandages were woven around her arms, covering the still-healing wounds from the attack.

 

She chuckled, lightly nipping his bottom lip before earnestly giving in. Lips and tongue gave and took in a dance of teasing and desire. If there had been sparks before, an honest-to-goodness fire was there, now. Breathless, they parted for a moment. Grinning, he pulled the mage on to his lap. She laughed heartily, uncaring of possibly waking the sleeping dwarf, and leaned in to start another round of their new game.

 

–

 

(“First time”)

The tales about “Warden Stamina” were not unfounded, he thought as he collapsed beside her, panting to catch his breath. It was a good thing that the rest of their party were at the Dalish clan’s encampment, still celebrating. They had found and dealt with the source of the curse, curing those who still lived. His dear Warden was utterly incapable of being quiet during the act of lovemaking, not that it was a bad thing, but it would’ve easily gotten them discovered in any other situation.

 

She hummed happily, languidly stretching like a contented cat. She rolled onto her side, facing him and gently stroked a stray lock of his hair, tucking it behind his ear. It would be some time before her words returned to her. They discovered that speech eluded her for a while after each climax. He grinned and rested his head against her chest, listening to her rapid heartbeat gradually slow down to a less frantic pace. He did not mind the gentle caresses along his back, fingertips tracing the lines of his swirling tattoos.

 

They laid there contentedly for uncounted minutes. Probably fewer than it seemed. “Cuddling” wasn’t something he usually indulged in, cuddling could lead to dozing off, which could leave him vulnerable to a knife in the back or someplace else equally unpleasant. A small, yet insistent part of his mind kept reminding him of opportunities she could’ve taken to end him, opportunities she never took and likely would never take. If he wanted to fall asleep in a warm bosom and wake up later, this was probably the best chance for it. He was vaguely aware of a warm set of furs being draped over them as sleep claimed him.


End file.
